Lord of the Rings: Redemption
by ShawnMorgan
Summary: <html><head></head>"A twist in a familiar tale gives Smeagol new purpose."</html>
1. Chapter 1

Redemption.

Chapter One: Endings and Beginnings.

oOo

Frodo stared at the devastation around him, at the lands that were Mordor. His heart quailed. It was too much, for none could withstand the power.

"It's hopeless Sam. I can see the smoke within the borders of Lothlorien, the Nazghul over Gondor, Rohan pressed on every plain. We cannot win Sam. We cannot win."

Sam's heart was breaking. Too much already his master had suffered. He did not let the heartbreak show though, for his master's sake. Shaking off the horror of Frodo's words, Samwise Gamgee spoke. "Don't you be talking like that Mister Frodo, sir. We're here, and you're seeing those things because of that horrible piece of metal! It knows that we're going home after this; to drink a flagon of ale in the Green Dragon inn; to pinch mushrooms from farmer Maggot's fields; and to have birthday parties for many years to come at _Bag End_."

Frodo looked up, and his eyes were filled of wonder. Here and now, with everything collapsing around them all, Sam could still look for the good. Frodo shook his head and tried to get up again, but the Ring fought back.

"Sam, I'm truly sorry, but the eye is constantly upon me, harassing me, crushing me. I can ever escape." Frodo was thin, stretched, _fading _even and everything was being stolen from him, even his will to live.

Sam was about to speak again when he fell to the ground, thrust down by a weight hitting him hard in the back. He was winded by this, even as he witnessed Smeagol scream inarticulately and engage Frodo, trying to rip the ring from him. Then Sam heard the hated voice properly.

'Wicked master!' it hissed 'wicked master cheats us; cheats Smeagol, _gollum. _He musstn't go that way. He musstn'nt hurt Preciouss. Give it to Smeagol, yess, give it to us! Give it to uss!'

Sam drew his sword but he could do nothing. Gollum and Frodo were locked together. Gollum was tearing at his master, trying to get at the chain and the Ring.

Frodo felt Gollum tear at him and was losing badly, suffering under Gollum's desperate assault. The wiry hands reaching for- the Ring! Frodo's eyes _blazed _with sudden fury that amazed Sam, and Gollum also. Even so, things might have gone otherwise, if Gollum himself had remained unchanged; but whatever dreadful paths, lonely and hungry and waterless, he had trodden, they had sorely wounded him. The light of malice shone as sharply as ever, but no longer was this matched by his old griping strength. Frodo rose to his feet and hurled Smeagol from him.

"Down! _Down base creature! _Down you creeping thing, and out of my path! Your time is at at end. You cannot betray or slay me now!"

Gollum squealed as Frodo's Inner goodness pulled at him. To Gollum it looked as though Frodo _was made of fire and he cringed in fear and – and something else._ A bad feeling rose that he did not recognise. All the benighted creature felt was that somehow he had to make the Ring stop. Smeagol raised his head and inched back from his master. He could feel the connection. It was as though fire raced from Frodo to Smeagol's very soul, illuminating every dark corner. Frodo frowned. He had believed Smeagol truly ruined at the end, nothing left to recover, a scarce shadow of a living being. But he steeled his heart to the dreadful task he bore.

"Begone Gollum and trouble me no more!" With this Frodo turned and strode forwards, using his newfound determination. The Ring had tried to break Frodo, and it nearly had At the end it was denied by Sam whose simple hobbitness remained incorruptible. Thus had it turned to yet another of it's victims, but that had been its most grievous error. Locking eyes with Gollum, Frodo had seen truly what the Ring wanted for him, and the whole of Middle Earth. Had he been alone, he would have surrendered to the despair but recent thoughts rose; thoughts of _Coney stew and spring fairs; ale at the_ _Green Dragon with- _Merry _and- _Pippin_._ He had forgotten them but now it was as though they were here with him. He realised that they would fight as he did, but their duty lay elsewhere.

The Ring knew then that its doom was close, that Frodo was beating it and that Hobbits were made of stern stuff.

Behind them, with the awe wearing off, Sam turned with drawn sword to face Smeagol. He gritted his teeth, and called out but without turning. "Go forwards mister Frodo, you show that horrible piece of jewelry who's boss!"

"I will Sam." Frodo headed to the ledge and the fires of doom.

Sam glared at the wretched form in front of him, "Now I can deal with you, you nasty little creature!"

"Please." Smeagol entreated. "Please master Samwise, don't kill us. We'll die when the Ring is destroyed, we'll be dust's. Let uss live a little longer." His wide eyes stared up at Samwise, "Smeagol saw the brightness in Master he did! Let that light be the last thing we know of, not the nasty cruel darkness like the lord in his tower. Just a while longer before being dusst!"

Sam raised his sword, ready to destroy this pitiable creature of treachery and evil. Sam could not strike though, for whilst it would be just and the safer thing to do, he himself had felt the burden of the Ring and recalled how it had tried to enslave him. He thought too on how it had taken extra strength for his master to resist the Ring's final attempt. Sam knew that had he not been here, Frodo would have fallen to despair.

"Right then you. You listen and you listen right good ! Leave and don't come near us again! Now be off with you!" Sam held his sword aloft and Smeagol saw the same flame he had seen before; the flame that drew him away from dark thoughts and desires. None knew it, but the lady Galadriel's light was meant for all who wandered in darkness, in mind as well as body. This, it was that called to what was left of Smeagol, fanning the dying embers of his true self.

Sam stepped forwards, snarling. "GO, I said!" Smeagol turned and fled. Sam waited a good few seconds before he turned and went to stand by Frodo who stood as though made of stone.

"I come here and I feel you. Yes I was mistaken. I believed you need destroying to save the world but all it needs is-is-is-is!"

"Mister Frodo, Throw it in, end this. Don't give in! Not after all this! _Please!_"

Frodo's fingers twitched as his final battle teetered towards failure, but a great light flared in his mind and he stood within the light of destiny. Behind Sam and Frodo both, Smeagol, his very mind on fire with pain and fury and madness, crept slowly towards them.

oOo

At the black gate surrounded by Mordor's forces, Aragorn, son of Arrowthorn, felt as though he as in two places at once. He continued to fight even as his thoughts connected, he knew not how, with those of Frodo and he knew then that this was the moment of doom. He lent what strength of mind he could and his thoughts became words to Frodo. _We are with you, Frodo, we fight for everything you hold dear and we will not yield_. _By the blood of the Dunedain, we will __**not**_ _yield!_

Rivendell lay besieged, and Elrond's might was taxed like only once before; but his strength, magic and wisdom held the orcish foe at bay. The river rose at his word and swept away hordes at a time. Arwen patrolled with her cousins, deadly arrows finding leaders amongst those who would despoil the Elven realm, and cast them down. Elrond felt it then, a persistent tugging in his mind he raised his own Elven Ring, and saw that the moment had come. His lips pursed and Elrond Half-Elven turned his mind away from the borders, trusting his family to hold back the foe, for his task was elsewhere now. Elrond smiled warmly and spoke though this strange link to Frodo. _Your Uncle Bilbo is at peace. He would be speaking to you, but he is sleeping after a good meal. He is so very proud of you._

Cirdan the Shipwright felt the strange tug next and he smiled. He had bequeathed his Ring ages back but still he felt this, and Glad too of his choice of successor he was.

Gandalf, his staff raised to strike terror into the Hordes of Mordor, the White wizard nodded as he felt the persistent tugging, for he knew this call as all the others had. He blazed with white fire, and in the seconds granted to him thus, he as with the others, could speak as though thoughts were words. Thus he spoke with Frodo. _From Bag End to Mount Doom, through sorrow and fire and darkness you have come. Fear is there on Mount Doom but it is not yours, it is the fear of the Ring Frodo. Release it and we are ALL free at long last. _

"Legolas! Aragorn is sorely pressed! Something takes his mind. Flank with me!" Gimli son of Gloin hewed at an Orc that tried to strike at Aragorn but dwarven steelen passed through its neck instead.

" I see the issue. Frodo is at Mount Doom. Aragorn is with him though I know not _how._"

"Then we buy him time lad!" Gimli declared and Elf and Dwarf stood together and swift was the doom that fell on those who would hew Aragorn then.

oOo

Smeagol crept forwards but there was one last being of power and Smeagol's mind filled with her stern and beautiful face. _Frodo is far from alone Smeagol, and he needs me not. The powers I safeguard have allowed me to fortify him. It is you though that I would strive for, to defeat the last vestige of the One Ring's power, to deny it a final spiteful victory. Truly has it taxed me to reach to that part of you that can be saved, but it is done. Know me Smeagol, know that I am Galadriel! _

The Elvish face shone in Smeagol's mind and he saw that she stood in a garden with ponds and fish. So many juicy Fishes! When he looked into her face she nodded. He could fish there! Her voice sounded again. _Not for ever, river dweller but for some time. But hark ye to your last task. Safeguard the pathway for Frodo even against Sam's anger. And so is my mission ended here._

Smeagol's Madness faded as he recognised the fire now for what it was and now it did not hurt as much. No longer was he Gollum, but once more the simply selfish Smeagol. Slowly he turned and left the cavern, casting a final look back as he did. He knew then that if he could get away now, he could be free. forever, free from the power that had been held over him so long. Thus did Smeagol scamper out on weary limbs to the causeway.

Elsewhere Frodo felt the presence of the Fellowship and was awed. Then he heard Sam shout and was spurred to to one final act. He shouted as best he could; "For the Shire!" He let go of the Ring and turned his back.

Streaking through the sky, even as Frodo had made his claim, the nine came as their lord called them. With desperate speed they came, with a rending cry they flew, faster than the storms they hurtled southwards to Mount Doom.

The creator of the Ring despaired and in that moment all creatures and stratagems of his design unraveled and The Nazghul scattered as Eagles dove at them. The servants of Manwe, (rulers of the skies if they were to so chose) sped towards Mount Doom for nothing was their equal in the sky and they had come at last, borne by wind and bonds of friendship.

The Ring fell and was covered by the fires within the Mountain and they awoke angrily. Red light blazed and the cavern was filled with heat. Frodo swayed dangerously even as power awoken searched for an outlet. Fire licked the roof of the cavern, accompanied by a great tumult. Sam slung the collapsing Frodo over his shoulders and carried him out to the causeway.

Sam hurried, wishing to be away but even as he caught his breath, he found his gaze caught by the sight of Barad-Dur tumbling in a great crash, the mighty monuments to dark power falling at last. Their time had passed, and the will behind their greatness was broken, never able now to return to its former strength. The will that sustained the Nazghul failed and fire and ruin consumed them, and they crackled and went out.

Sam's thoughts were wrenched back to their predicament when the great mountain shuddered and threw stone and fire. Frodo fell from Sam's back and slipped towards the edge of the causeway. Sam dove for his master but it was too much and Frodo slid inch by inch towards release from the desperate grasp. Then it was that aid most unlooked for was given as a wiry hand snapped hold over Frodo's wrist and began dragging him back.

"Smeagol wishes to live more. Smeagol only lives more because master saved him. Smeagol will help!"

Sam's eyes were wide in wonder for he heard the truth in Smeagol's words, even as between them they regained the safer ground. Then they heard a great cry and the Eagles were there for them; Gwaihir Windlord, greatest of his kin and Landroval his brother, And Meneldor too, with Gandalf the white borne aloft by Gwaihir himself.

With sight honed with age Gandalf searched, looking in aching hope for the two Halflings. His eyes widened as he saw three such sized figures helping each other to a safe height, before being overcome by the tumult around them.

"I ask that all three shall be borne away," Gandalf beseeched Gwaihir, "There is a great wonder here, and let the three times of aid settle all debt between us!"

"We would bear them though they weighed the world old friend, and we would bear you wherever you need to go. But I accept your offer as friends should!"

Frodo looked once at Sam and once at Smeagol, with forgiveness filling his heart and spoke once before all they eyes closed. "Thank you Smeagol. I release you from all duty and forgive your past hurt."

Unseen by the Hobbits and Smeagol, for unconsciousness had overcome them, the Eagles swooped down; For then it was that Gwaihir (and Gandalf) and his brothers, Landroval and Meneldor sped to save them.


	2. Chapter 2

Lord of the Rings Redemption

Chapter Two: Fishing for Details

An unexpected smell befell Smeagol as he woke. He sniffed at the familiar scent as he looked around his accommodation carefully. He was laid out on a pallet of straw and whilst he was manacled to a wall, there was more than enough room to move about in this generously spaced cell. There were bars set into an iron door that let in sunlight, enough so that he could see but not so direct that it would discomfort him.

The appetising scent itself was coming from a table, where a plate laden with fish had been placed. His stomach reminded him with a growl that he hadn't eaten for many days.

He looked around and seeing no one, looked around again, eyes narrowing suspiciously. Too many years avoiding capture and stealthy orcs had left him wary. Satisfied in the end that his nose and ears would warn him where his eyes would not, he scampered cautiously over to the plate and scrutinised one of the fish. Tentatively, Smeagol sniffed in the scent from the fish he held in his hand.

"Juicy fish. Safe to eat." Smeagol's teeth tore through the fish and as he devoured it and he realised just how ravenous he was. He ate more than half of the fish in front of him in minutes. After the ninth fish he felt full enough to slow down.

He was confused though: Someone had brought him down from the hot mountain, then put him a cell and then had left him fish and water. He relaxed though, because he was slowly realising that if the people who had put him in here had wished him dead, then they would have simply hewn him as he lay unconscious.

"Ah, Smeagol, I see you're awake at last." A rich voice carried from beyond the door, one laden with authority. "May I enter?"

The small gaunt river dweller startled at these words. The voice sounded again. "Smeagol of the river, I ask to come in?"

Smeagol sniffed the air to check for any known scent, and his eyes widened when he realised the voice belonged to Gandalf, who he recalled meeting a long time ago in the realm of king Thranduil of Mirkwood. Then he replied.

"Why does great shiny wizard wishes to speaks with us?"

"I will answer your questions if you answer mine Smeagol."

Smeagol hoisted his foot to his mouth and chewed on one of his ground down toenails as he decided. " Smeagol says yes. But no tricksies!"

Gandalf sighed for a moment, possibly deciding the best way to approach Smeagol's mind-set. He spoke sternly but not without compassion. "Gandalf promises no tricksies."

"Then shiny can come in."

"Shiny you say; Then my cloak has indeed been washed well this day."

Smeagol frowned then giggled as he understood the joke. he hopped back onto his pallet and sat waiting.

Outside the door, Gandalf breathed a sigh of relief. He had had no desire to leave this benighted creature here if it could be prevented. He had to make Smeagol realise that things could get better again and when Smeagol had granted permission, Gandalf had been able to sense the changes starting in Smeagol to which Galadriel had alluded.

Turning to one of Faramir's loyal Guards Gandalf nodded. The guard glanced at the cell behind him with distaste, but he he did not hesitate in allowing Gandalf access. Subtle were the affairs of wizards, and not to anger them remained wise even during the ending of the Age of Rings. The door clanged shut behind the wizard for though he had permission to enter, not until the guard's own lord bade him thus, Smeagol did not have permission to leave.

Gandalf strode in and sat down cross legged in the corner opposite Smeagol, who sniffed and viewed him with naked curiosity.

"Well," said Gandalf, "I was the one to ask entry and so I have asked you a question. So now it is your turn to ask me one."

Smeagol cocked his head. He had so many questions, but he was used to torturers and annoyed (and one fat) Hobbits. Those he could outwit with his low cunning and find out what they were after. Here, in this place with the ancient wizard Smeagol knew that his usual tricks would avail him not. The fact that he was thinking about that made him pause. Unbidden images of the forest lady came to mind and he remembered how he had felt the tug of kindness. It had been a strange feeling. He spoke because of that.

"Why help Smeagol and gives him fishies? The men in metal want to hurts Smeagol. The fat Hobbit would have done so if Smeagol had not helped Master, but Frodo no longer master."

Gandalf nodded. It seemed that once more Galadriel's wisdom was matched by her perception. _He_ would not have mourned much had Smeagol perished, though nor would he have celebrated. Now though, he had a duty and Smeagol was under his protection. The ancient wizard sighed wearily.

_When then will I be allowed to rest?_ He thought to himself. _For I grow tired and would depart Middle Earth._

"The great Shiny does not answer Smeagol..."

Broken from his introspection, Gandalf responded slowly,"I apologise, I was thinking about your questions and how things affected me and what I must now do. But in answer I say this to you. Your act on the mountain showed that you were not so far gone as to be wholly ruined, not so far gone as to be but a slave of the Ring beyond its own destruction. Such an act should be lauded."

"Smeagol has no lord now." He replied, not quite understanding what Gandalf had meant. Smeagol had travelled for so long on his own, many words had been lost to him.

Gandalf realised this and pity held his words. Perhaps this pity was similar to what both Bilbo and Frodo had felt when they had had Goll- _Smeagol-_ at their mercy.

"No Smeagol," Gandalf began, "to laud an act is different, the way you speak changes a little. In this case it means that people should be told that of a good act."

Smeagol frowned. "But if words are tricksy, anyone could make them mean what they-" he stopped short and realised that he had been led to see what he himself had done so many times. He finished weakly, "Oh."

Gandalf nodded, his eyes stern "This does not mean you will be allowed to go free though, not yet. For we must yet discern what motive you might still have that is dangerous."

Gleaming eyes locked with Gandalf's. "Smeagol wants to stay free!"

The wizard nodded. "It can be made so, Smeagol. But to do so I will need your promise. Give me your most sacred word and I will have you released. But know _this_, if you should once more break the laws of men, you will be imprisoned again and held for some time."

"Can Smeagol goes to the Shire? He wants to help Frodo he does."

"I think Frodo would agree, though first I would ask it of him. Master Samwise really would not want to you to go there."

"That's that then! Shire it is!" Smeagol giggled at his own little joke.

Gandalf rose and examined the ancient creature carefully, leaving once he was content with his own conclusions. Smeagol for his part, snickered to himself whilst rolling around on the floor. "Fat hobbit doesn't want Smeagol in Shire. But if Smeagol sticks to new rules, fat hobbit can't do anything!"

Gandalf smiled outside the cell hearing all of the one sided conversation within, then strode on heading to Frodo's chamber, stopping only to pick up a small box from his own quarters. He carried on rapidly to where a conscious and content Frodo was talking with Samwise Gamgee.

"Gandalf!" exclaimed Frodo. "Sam said you kept vigil. Thank you."

Gandalf said "You are most welcome my friend, Now, I have spoken with Smeagol and have seen the wonder of Galadriel's rescue for myself. He is not the best there will ever be of his race, but nor is he the vile creature he once was. The good that remained within him has started to resurface, but ever will he be mischievous and will strain at the yolk. he will not bow easy to being ordered. Nonetheless, he is free to act for himself once again."

Frodo nodded. "That's good to hear at least. Where would he go though?"

Sam snickered. " I told Gandalf that Id be happy with Smeagol going anywhere but the Shire."

Gandalf's eyes glinted with mischief, "That, Samwise Gamgee was the pivotal point in him deciding to go there."

Sam groaned as Frodo fell back on his bed, smiling but holding his laughter, Then though, a thought crossed Frodo's mind. "Putting all humour to one side Gandalf, what if he fell back into true evil?"

"Then he would be finally be truly lost."

"Which wouldn't surprise me at all," Sam interjected The stouter Hobbit put up one hand as Gandalf started to speak "But he saved us back there so he has to have the chance. And I'll be watching out for Mister Frodo the whole time and so will Merry and Pippin."

Frodo smiled at his servant's words and was about to comment when Gandalf started speaking again.

The wizard reached into his bag. "It is not that that should gladden your hearts, my dear Hobbit, for when we brought you safe home, we found these upon Sam." Gandalf held out his hand and within were the elven treasures bestowed upon them by Galadriel; the Box with soil and one golden seed and the glass with the light that did not dim.

"Well, I'll be blowed." Sam slapped his knees and grinned a wide grin. " I thought they'd surely have been lost on the mountain."

Gandalf shook his head his own smile widen. "Not so, master Gamgee. The lady of Lothlorien's gifts are not that fragile. Much like her, they look slender and frail but are in truth like ancient trees, oft tougher than the most wrought steel."

Grima Wormtongue scampered in the bramble looking for his own supper. It had been thrown there by the cantankerous white beard Saruman, not because there was anything wrong with the supper but because Saruman could torment Wormtongue with his acts. Saruman had fallen far from grace, and his abuse of the pitiful wretch known as Wormtongue showed this. Saruman chuckled as his underling whimpered, the latter's hunger driving him to search desperately.

The fallen mage drew out a fading map and smiled knowingly. His malice was far from done and if he could travel quickly enough he mused, he may still be able to rebuild some of his former power. He was no fool though, he knew full well that never again would he rule from lofty heights such as Isengard, but he still had other skills and his silken tongue remained honeyed.

He thought to himself pondering options, and decided that the Shire was his safest Bolthole. _Well, I may not have gotten those accursed Halflings to Isengard, but I can assuredly get myself to the Shire. Fortunate for me it is that the likes of Sandyman and the Sackville-Baggins are such fools._

He replaced the map and with his usual impatience ordered Wormtongue. "Grima! Come along!"

Grima Wormtongue whimpered as his master's voice cracked like a whip. He crammed his face full of the remains of what little provision he could find and scurried to Saruman's side, only to receive a swift kick to the side. He snarled

his frustration and hate, but the will of Saruman kept Wormtongue in check and he soon cowered once more.

Saruman smiled at Wormtongue and it held warmth and forgiveness, so the disgraced steward relaxed a little. That was when Saruman struck him in the side of the head with his staff.

"What delight you give me you _fool_. No matter what I do or say, you are within my power and will always be ,for my voice and my words hold your very essence in thrall. Even were you capable of throwing off your burden, where would you go? Rohan will not suffer a traitor like you to live if they see you again. The elf lands would send you back. Gondor's will would be as Rohan's and the children of Durin would take payment in your lifelong servitude, mining for them."

Saruman watched his words hit home like arrows. Grima had no refuge and he had brought this all on himself without even the corruption of the ring. This was no small part of why Saruman despised his servant. Others that had fallen had desired the Ring. Men such as Boromir and Isildur.

He himself had sought the Ring. Grima though had allowed perverse desires for his King's kinswoman to lead him to base treachery.

_No_, thought Saruman, _the Ring had never needed to do anything with Grima Wormtongue. He did it all by himself_.


End file.
